Take me far far away
by azure skies6070
Summary: Hermione unable to get over Ronald's death hides away in Prague. for 3 years she lives a lie, convincing herself that she was content, but only Draco Malfoy happens to stumble on her door at 2am. NON MAGIC


There was a pounding on her door.

It wasn't enough for someone to bother Hermione at two a.m., or even to wake her up from the first real sleep that she has had in days; it was the fact that Draco Malfoy now stood at her door, like the proverbial bastard that he was.

"Hi Hermione," he said.

She leant heavily upon the doorframe and passed a hand across her eyes, startled by the light of the hallway. Draco was dressed in a dark shirt and a rather battered motorcycle jacket with a pair of army trousers.

Hermione put a hand to her forehead.

"I'm really not in the mood to talk at the moment," she told him, making to close the door again. Draco stopped it however, by lodging his boot between it and the doorframe.

"Who said we were gonna talk?" he said Hermione was forced to admit defeat and open the door wider again. Draco shrugged past her with a smile.

Hermione sighed and closed the door behind her.

"What do you want, Draco?"

He did not answer; he simply ran a hand across her coffee table and then threw himself down onto her sofa, avoiding the question.

"Have you missed me?" he asked.

"No," she replied firmly, turning to face him again. "I'm missing my bed at the moment." Then there was an awkward moment as Hermione became aware of what she was wearing, or more correctly not wearing.

No wonder the guy was acting so darn smug.

Hermione grabbed the coverlet off the end of the sofa and threw it hurriedly over herself. Of all the people in the world, Draco Malfoy had just seen her standing there in nothing but her bra and thong.

"Fuck you Draco," she said, as he sat there dying from laughter. Her cheeks were now flushed with color.

"You should've seen the look on your face," he managed, between choking gasps. "It was priceless!"

Pissed off wasn't the word. Hermione just stood there, seething, and clung to her dignity for dear life, along with the coverlet.

"Was there a point to this visit?" she bit out angrily. "Or did you just come to make goo goo eyes at me?"

Draco smiled and propped his feet up on the coffee table.

"I wanted to check up on you." He said

"How sweet." Her tone was not sincere.

"Aww, come on Hermione," Draco insisted. "I wanna know if you're doing okay."

She folded her arms and glared at him.

"Well, I'm currently a recovering insomniac, have developed an affinity for cooking and want to kick you up the ass. I think that's everything - now get out!"

Draco made no move to leave.

"Nice place," he said, looking around. "Shitty location though."

"Yeah," she replied in a sarcastic drawl. "It's never far away enough from you."

Draco simply ignored her comment.

"So how come you're still in Prague?" he asked her. "I would've thought you'd come back to Britain as soon as possible."

Hermione studied him for a moment: "I'd say the same for you."

They were both quiet for a moment. Eventually Draco got up and strode over to the fireplace. He picked up the smashed photo which stood upon the mantelpiece above it. It depicted Hermione and another young man posing before a line of sand dunes. "You and Ronald," Draco realized, turning back to look at her. "I take it you were pretty close?"

"Something like that." Hermione quickly walked over and grabbed the photo frame from him, setting it back on the mantelpiece with something akin to reverence.

"You don't need to get all defensive," Draco sulked. "I lost my father the same way, remember?" Draco went and settled back down onto the sofa. "It sucks, but you just gotta push it to the back of your mind. Otherwise a guy could go crazy." He waved an absent hand. "Or girl, in your case."

Hermione refused to let this affect her.

"Draco, why are you here?"

He didn't look up.

"I got lonely okay?" he muttered. "And don't look at me like that, because I know you're lonely too."

Hermione was about to protest but then she stopped herself. Who was she trying to fool?

"Fine," she pouted, perching herself upon the arm of the sofa. "I'm lonely. We're both lonely. We could start a freaking support group. What do you want me to do about it?"

Draco gave a sigh. Why did everything between them have to be so hard?

"Just let me crash here tonight, okay?" he said. "I'll be gone by the morning, I promise."

Hermione pulled her coverlet a little tighter about herself.

"And this is the only way I'll get you out of my home?"

Draco smirked.

"Unless you call the cops on me, yeah."

Hermione thought about it for a moment.

"Fine," she said finally. "But get your damn feet off my coffee table." Draco broke into that cocky grin which she had always hated. Hermione swatted at his legs with a scowl. "I'm serious, thing was bloody expensive."

Draco took his feet down with a smile.

"Do I get a cookie now?"

"Shut up Draco," she growled, disappearing into her bedroom to go and put on some clothes.

XXX

Hermione soon found herself in front of the mirror, checking her appearance. She caught herself just in time. Did she really care what Draco thought of her looks? He had already seen her in her underwear tonight. She didn't think she was going to live that down.

Hermione threw down her mascara in protest, almost knocking over one of the candles on her dresser as she did so. She kept them all over her apartment. She wasn't too concerned about fire safety lately. It was just relieving to wake up and find some light in the darkness.

Pulling a brush quickly through her hair, Hermione tied it back in a loose braid and slipped on her black camisole. She could hear the sound of the television. With a sigh she went back into the living room to find Draco shamelessly channel surfing. He had removed his jacket.

"Why is there never anything on?" he asked, not looking up as she approached.

"Maybe because it's quarter past two in the morning," she replied, "and half of the channels are in Czech."

Draco eventually gave up after landing on a disturbing infomercial for birth control and handed the remote over to Hermione. She pushed in 27 and brought up BBC World. Some coverage of England's latest match was playing, and the two dissolved into an argument as to whether the sport was called football or soccer. Said discussion abruptly ended when Hermione stomped down on Draco' foot, promising to land a hit in a more delicate region of his body and effectively prove to him the real meaning of 'football'. He shut up soon after.

Ten minutes later there was a report on the robbery of a chocolate factory, and Hermione suddenly realized how hungry she was.

"Want anything?" she asked, going over to raid the fridge.

"Got any alcohol?" was the reply.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'm still mad at you Malfoy," she said. "Don't think I'm going to give away my hard-earned liquor."

She was greeted with silence from the sofa and she knew Draco was sulking. Hermione turned back to the fridge and opened the door with a sigh. A quick study of its contents revealed how badly she needed to go grocery shopping: half a can of whipped cream, a couple of inedible-looking frozen meals, a box of strawberries which, miraculously, were still fresh, and a quart of milk and some leftover butter.

Hermione stood there for a second, and then admitted defeat and grabbed two bottles of Firewhisky, kicking the door shut behind her with excessive force. She grabbed a bottle opener and returned to the living room.

"Thanks," Draco said, taking the drink she offered him. She handed him the bottle opener once she had removed the cap from her own drink, and then settled down beside him and snatched away the remote.

"Did you only come here to steal my liquor?" she asked.

Draco removed the top from his bottle with a dull clink.

"Well, I did come for some action too but you aren't making it very easy."

Hermione decided to let this slip, and proceeded to take a long gulp of her drink. Draco hid his laughter as she flipped through the channels. A tacky soap opera followed a 24 hour shopping channel. Then, to her horror, Hermione somehow tuned into a porno movie right in the middle of a steamy sex scene. To cap it all off she dropped the remote, and was left to bend down and search desperately under the sofa as groans and gasps of pleasure filled the room.

From above, she heard Draco laugh and say: "She is so faking it."

After what seemed like an eternity Hermione found the remote and quickly flipped the movie off. Draco looked disappointed.

"Oh come on!" he cried. "At least he was seeing some action!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow and began to flick through a series of boring documentaries instead.

"Don't tell me you watch that kind of filth," she said.

Draco threw back some more drink.

"At best it's an art form," he replied, gesturing towards the television with his bottle. "Especially that hot chick with the bunny ears."

Hermione just gaped at him, open mouthed.

"You have a dirty mind, do you know that Malfoy?"

Draco just smiled. She knew he was proud of this fact. Hermione lowered her bottle of Firewhisky.

"I feel sick," she muttered.

Draco pushed the bottle towards her again.

"Alcohol," he insisted. "The solution to all of life's problems."

"And the cause of most of them," Hermione replied, glaring at him and then gulping it down, alarmed at how quickly she was drinking it. It was now three a.m., and she knew she wouldn't be at work tomorrow. It wasn't much to brag about; just a job as a tour guide showing gullible school kids around a museum, but it had tided over her for the rent and bills the past few months. She still could not face going back to England.

Before she knew it, however, Hermione had gotten another two bottles from the fridge. Draco accepted one and she started on the other. She had always been a cheap date when it came to alcohol, and tonight was no exception.

For some reason they ended up watching the Notebook, which had to rank high on the top ten list of the most tacky romantic movies of all time. Anything below that would have been an insult to tacky movies. Draco was quick to point out the flaw in every scene, and they were both dying from laughter as the hero hung from the Ferris wheel.

"Damn that guy is pathetic," Draco said through his laughter. "He obviously never got laid in high school."

"Oh," Hermione riposted, "and I suppose disarming and groping a complete stranger is completely fine in comparison?"

Draco glanced at her and smiled.

"That's very different," he countered. "I was acting accordingly in a dangerous situation."

She raised an eyebrow.

"So you were searching for hidden weapons in my pants?"

"Something like that."

XXX

5am found them cross-legged on the floor, playing gin rummy with a deck of cards Hermione didn't even know she had. Draco had first suggested they play strip poker; she had laughed and replied that she wasn't nearly drunk enough yet.

But, unfortunately, she had agreed to let him choose the next game if he won, and the fact that the guy was exceptionally good with a deck of cards was not helping matters.

For the third time that night, he laid out his winning hand.

"Strip poker!" Draco said with a grin.

"Oh, come on," she moaned. "You must be cheating somehow." And she crawled over and swiped his deck of cards.

"Hey!" he cried in protest. "You're not allowed to peek!"

Hermione just gave a scowl as she studied Draco' cards; they definitely beat her hand. She cast them down onto the carpet and rubbed at her tired eyes.

"How'd you get so good at this anyways?" she asked.

Draco gathered up all the cards again with a shrug.

"Does it really matter?" he said. "Now, I wanna see some skin!" And he started reshuffling the entire deck in preparation for another hand.

Hermione folded her arms.

"You've already seen enough skin for one night, Draco."

He raised an eyebrow as he gulped down some more Firewhisky.

"Yeah, but you haven't," he replied. "I just wanna even the odds a little."

She gave him a look, one which told him clearly that she was not going to fall for his tricks. Draco shook his head with quiet laughter.

"Aw, come on Granger!" he said. "I'll even give you a head start." And before Hermione could protest Draco had reached down and pulled off his shirt. He soon cast it across the room so that he was sitting there before her, dressed solely in a pair of army combats. He gestured to his bare chest and said: "Happy?"

Hermione smirked as she took in his toned abs.

"Very."

Two more bottles of Firewhisky and three more plays later, and Draco was down to his boxers, while Hermione was still hanging onto her bra and her trousers, which were really nothing more than drawstring pajama bottoms.

"Come on Draco," she was saying with a laugh. "You lost the play. You have to take something off."

Draco thought for a moment, and then he made to remove the ring from his right hand. Hermione threw up a hand in protest.

"That is not an item of clothing," she said.

"Sure it is," Draco insisted. "I'm wearing it, aren't I?"

Hermione shook her head and folded her arms; this guy was going to have to follow the rules exactly.

"Take off the boxers, Draco."

Draco met her eyes. A smirk was playing at his lips.

"I thought you didn't even want to play?"

"Yes, well…" Hermione played distractedly with the bottle cap of her Firewhisky. "I'm winning," she said firmly, "so we might as well see this thing through to the end."

Draco looked down at his boxers for a moment, and then back at her.

"Fine then," he said, with a cocky grin. "But only if you're the one who removes them."

Hermione's bottle cap suddenly went flying across the room. It hit the far wall with a dull clink. Hermione raised her head and looked at Draco, whose gaze was unflinching. She took in the implications of his words as a slow smile spread across her face.

"You're on."

And she leant forwards and made towards him on her hands and knees, feeling increasingly giddy in her drunken stupor. Maybe it was the prospect of seeing the rest of his perfectly toned body, or simply the alcohol that was causing her to lose all sense of her inhibitions. All that mattered was that Hermione had crawled over to Draco and slid her hand down the front of his boxers before you could say 'Chirugai!'

"Ah, ah," Draco somehow managed through his laughter. "I want you to use your teeth."

Hermione sat back on her heels, slowly pulling her hand out from under the fabric of his boxers and letting it teasingly linger.

"I'm not sure I can get them off yet," she said quietly. "We need a little axel grease, I think. Or better yet…" She reached out with her free hand picked up a half-empty bottle of Firewhisky.

Draco was biting down upon his lip with a smile.

"Hermione," he said, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't into this filth?"

She had a devilish glint in her eyes as she said: "You obviously don't know me too well."

XXX

A few minutes later Draco was lowering himself down onto the carpet, which was now thoroughly soaked with alcohol. The deck of cards were scattered across the apartment and long forgotten. Hermione swung a leg over his prone body and promptly straddled him.

"Let's see if I can't budge them now," she murmured.

And Hermione bent down and ran her tongue along Draco' alcohol-soaked chest, right down past his navel. Then her hands slipped down to his waist and slowly pulled his boxers down past his knees. Draco' hands clawed at the carpet as she drew down her own pants and slid them off, along with her thong. Hermione carelessly kicked them off and quickly forgot about them.

Draco could no longer wait; he reached up with desperate hands and grabbed Hermione firmly by her forearms. Soon they were kissing furiously. Hermione gasped as Draco nuzzled at her neck. Slowly and deliberately he slid his hands along her toned legs, up to her thighs and paused to linger at her hips. With a pounding heart Hermione eased herself down onto him.

She began very slowly at first, taking her time and keeping her gaze locked upon his face as her breathing became heavier. Draco' hands slowly explored the curve of her back and then slid down past her hips; she gasped as he cupped his hands around her ass. At first gentle and teasing, her thrusts gradually increased in speed until Draco was clawing at the carpet and she was struggling to draw breath.

Hermione slowed again. She brushed away her sweat-soaked hair with a smile. They had raided the fridge again after abandoning the deck of cards and in her drunken state Hermione had realized the benefits of the assortment of food contained therein. She quickly reached over and took up the can of squirt cream and shook it thoroughly.

Soon Hermione had left a trail of cream reaching from Draco' navel up to his throat. She stooped down again and ran her tongue through this cream, beginning at his stomach and following the trail right up to Draco' chest. When she reached its end she carried on and began to kiss his neck. The next moment her mouth was on his, and Hermione's hands were tangled desperately in his hair.

Then she took his face in her hands, and Draco wrapped his arms about her and rose to his knees, with her legs still straddled about his waist. He began to kiss her neck again. Hermione paused and simply hung there with her eyes closed, listening as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear.

"Hermione," he murmured. "From the moment I saw you, I wanted no-one else. I knew you would be amazing." Hermione simply smiled against him as Draco paused to lick at the cream which covered her mouth and her throat .His hands slid down her back and opened the clasps of her bra. "I wanted you so bad."

The next moment Hermione's bra fell to the floor, and Draco cupped her breasts and began planting soft kisses down to her stomach. For a while Hermione lost herself, listening to him whispering into her ear.

"I wanna fuck you," he murmured. "I wanna fuck you like an animal. I wanna burn your insides. I want you. I want inside you."

Hermione's hands found his face again and they began to kiss hungrily, using their teeth and their tongues. Hermione caught his lip and tasted blood. Then Draco slid his arms about her shoulders and turned around, lowering her down onto the floor and straddling her hips. He was promptly inside her and fucking her senseless. She had been desperate for this for a very long time.

Hermione arched her back and gave a low moan. Desperately she struggled for purchase, and suddenly her hand came upon the box of strawberries. With a laugh she motioned towards the box with a nod of her head. Draco paused for a moment and then smiled as he leant across her and bent down to pick up one of the strawberries with his teeth. It was not as easy as it looked, and Hermione was laughing again as Draco secured one for a moment only to drop it onto her chest. It landed between her breasts.

Draco gave a smirk. Slowly he bent down and trailed kisses down Hermione's neck and along her breasts. Eventually he had picked up the piece of fruit between his teeth again. Hermione drew herself up onto her elbows and pulled him close. Then they were kissing again and sharing the strawberry between them, alternately kissing and swallowing at the same time.

Within minutes they had emptied the box. The scent of strawberries and sex hung in the air. Once again Draco was kissing Hermione's neck. In its travels his hand accidentally came across the remote, and the television sputtered back into life. It switched back onto the porn channel again. A cacophony of sordid moans filled the room.

"Let's try that position," Draco slurred, pointing at the TV.

Hermione craned her neck and looked at the television upside-down. She frowned.

"I'm not sure I can bend that way."

Draco laughed.

"Well," he said, bending down to kiss her again, "we'll soon find out, won't we?" And as he spoke Draco skimmed a hand along Hermione's stomach and down past her thigh. She gasped as it ran down and reached places that made her heart skip a beat.

One way or the other, Hermione knew that this was going to be an unforgettable night.

XXX

A few hours later sunlight slowly invaded her senses.

Hermione groaned, screwing her eyes shut even tighter, and turned over onto her other side. She had the world's worst hangover, but she couldn't remember for the life of her why. For a few minutes she remained still, trying to fall asleep again, but her mind had better ideas. It refused to stop reminding her of the incessant pounding in her head.

Goddammit, she thought. What on earth happened to me last night?

Her head was resting on something rough and damp. This wasn't her bed. With a moan Hermione threw back the coverlet which had acted as a blanket that night and sat up with bleary eyes. She scrambled out of instinct for her alarm clock upon the nearby coffee table, but only managed to knock over her lamp in the process. It smashed into pieces on the floor.

Hermione groaned loudly. The universe was conspiring against her this morning. She raised her hands to her face and rubbed at her eyes with her knuckles. Hermione paused with horror, however, as she took in for the first time the desperate state of her living room. Most of the furniture had been pushed back or overturned, the curtains had been torn off the railing and the carpet was a mess of Firewhisky, strawberries and whipped cream. Various items of clothing were strewn about the room; Hermione's bra was even hanging from the ceiling fan. She had no idea how it had gotten there.

Hermione sat frozen at the sight before her. Suddenly every last memory came flooding back to her of the previous night's encounter. A million emotions seized her at once: shock, anger and shame were only a few. Slowly the faint sound of conversation drifted in from the kitchen. The door was ajar. Hermione frantically climbed to her feet and pulled the coverlet about herself to cover up her naked body, tying it firmly so that it would not fall down. Then she crept towards the kitchen to investigate the noise.

"…yeah…" trailed a familiar voice. "She won't be in today I'm afraid… why not? Well, you really wanna know?" There was a pause, and then a slight chuckle. "She just had the best damn sex of her life…" Hermione's eyes widened in horror as she recognized the voice; it was Draco. "Yes, yes…" he continued. "I'll let her know… who am I? I'm her boyfriend of course… yes… she was damn good in bed… I can give you details if you like-"

Hermione burst through the door screaming: "MALFOY!"

Draco turned towards her, looking perfectly calm. He put down the phone with a sigh.

"Good morning," he said with a smile. He was wearing only his boxers, and his hair was still tousled from sleep. Hermione noticed he had been making breakfast. "Your boss is a huge pervert, do you know that?"

Hermione just stood there in the doorway, breathing heavily with anger. She put a hand to her forehead, feeling the beginnings of a migraine forming, and tried to avoid screaming at him again.

"Draco," she hissed in a low voice, "what in the hell do you think you are doing?"

Draco just gave a shrug and went back to his breakfast.

"I was doing you a favor," he said, with his mouth full of cereal.

"A favor?" Hermione's voice was tinged with suppressed rage.

Draco nodded. He walked over to the sink and discarded his bowl upon the sideboard.

"You don't belong here, Hermione. You're not the kind of person who works in a museum, for God's sake." He paused. "Well, not anymore anyways…"

Hermione's eyebrow twitched a little.

"What do you mean 'not anymore'?"

Draco ran a distracted hand through his hair.

"Your boss kinda just fired you…"

Hermione could not speak for several moments; she felt as though she was paralyzed with anger.

"Fired?" she repeated in a low voice. "What do you mean I'm fired?"

"Geez Granger," Draco muttered, hoisting himself up onto the kitchen counter. "It's only a shitty little job. I bet you didn't even enjoy it anyways."

Hermione wanted to blurt out a long line of expletives, but then clamped her mouth shut in anger. He was right. Again. She folded her arms and leant against the wall with a frown.

"How did you get to be the voice of reason?" she asked him.

Draco shrugged.

"I got stabbed through the gut. A thing like that can change a guy."

They both remained silent for several minutes. Draco stared intently at the ceiling, while Hermione closed her eyes and leant her head back against the wall. The pounding in her head had subsided a little.

"Last night…" she began.

"Never happened," Draco finished, jumping down off the kitchen counter. "This doesn't change anything. You hate me, you've always hated me, and now you're wondering why I haven't left yet."

Hermione nodded.

"That about covers it."

Draco stood there for a moment, studying her closely. Then he brushed past Hermione out of the kitchen and set about gathering up his clothes. They were scattered about everywhere.

"Where are you going?" she asked, following him into the living room. "I thought you had no place to go?"

Draco shrugged as he dropped down onto his hands and knees to look under the sofa. He was missing one of his boots.

"I don't."

"So?"

"So." Draco retrieved his other boot and straightened up. His clothes were bundled in his arms. "Since you're not gonna be putting out again anytime soon, my work here is done."

Hermione really felt like throwing something at him.

"What else do you want Draco?" she cried. "Another round of mindless sex?"

He raised an eyebrow as he pulled his trousers back on.

"Well, yeah."

Hermione glared at him.

"I'm not that desperate yet," she said, her eyes hardening. "There's a lot more to a relationship than just sex, Draco."

He looked at her closely as he buttoned up his pants.

"We have a relationship?"

Hermione shook her head.

"That came out all wrong…"

"No," he said firmly. "It didn't." Draco walked over and deposited himself back upon the coffee table again. He was wearing only his trousers, and his remaining clothes he slung in a heap beside him. "What is this, Hermione?"

She stared resolutely down at her feet. She couldn't meet his judging gaze.

"Last night…" she said. "Well, last night… It may have been an idiotic drunken mess, but it was a good idiotic drunken mess." She smiled a little. "I haven't laughed like that in months. Not since Ronald…" She trailed off, but did not lift her head to check his reaction.

Draco shook his head. He stood up and walked over to her.

"Hermione, there's no shame in enjoying idiotic drunken sex. Hell, I'd doubt your sanity if you didn't enjoy idiotic drunken sex with me." Hermione could not help but laugh. "But you gotta stop punishing yourself. Ronald's gone, just like my father. Neither of them is coming back, but I'm sure they would have been looking down on us last night and smiling."

Hermione raised her head and gaped at him. Then her face broke into a smile and she quickly burst into laughter. Draco had to sit down again to stop his sides from splitting. It took a while for them to both recover. Hermione pulled her coverlet a little closer and blushed.

"Now I have to ask," she said, slowly. "Who exactly is going to clean up this mess?"

Hermione gestured to the room about them. There were still playing cards strewn about the floor, as well as whipped cream, strawberries, alcohol and other… fluids.

Draco simply reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a slip of paper. He passed it to her with a smile.

"Let somebody else do it."

Hermione took the item from Draco' hand with a frown; it was a plane ticket back to London, first class.

"What is this?" she asked, looking up at him in confusion.

Draco reached up and retrieved her bra from where it hung from the ceiling fan.

"A fresh start," he said, throwing the bra towards her. Hermione caught it with a start. "I think we both need one. Hermione shook her head as she turned the plane ticket over in her hands.

"First class?" She looked up at him with a knowing smile. "What did I do to deserve this?"

Draco smirked.

"I can think of a few things." He approached her and slipped his arms around her waist. Hermione did not push him away. "And since you no longer have a job," he added, "I take it you're free all day, huh?"

Hermione did not say anything; there were no more words. The plane ticket fell forgotten from her hand as Draco took her face in his hands. Their kiss spoke of intense longing and promise.

It did not take her much more convincing. Hermione had nothing left in Prague anyways and, as Draco had shown her, she was slowly killing herself by trying to live a lie. Besides, after last night she would never get her cleaning deposit back.

For a moment she just enjoyed the sensation of Draco' kisses again, but then Hermione pulled back and said firmly: "I need to shower first."

Draco kept a grip upon her elbow as Hermione turned to walk away; slowly, his fingers trailed down her arm and brushed lightly against her hand as she made for the doorway leading into the bathroom. He remained where he was for the moment.

Hermione rested a hand upon the doorframe and turned back to him with a teasing smile: "Well, are you coming or not?"

Draco smirked. He needed no urging to follow.


End file.
